Red
by LadyShinigami12
Summary: Grell has thought of the grandest revenge on his dearest William. Help a serial killer commit her crimes! But when things take a-strange-turn, Grell finds himself in more trouble than he asked for. story of Grell and Madame Red's short time together.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Okay, I assume most of you have either read the manga or seen the anime, therefore I didn't bother copying down the full quotes of what Grell says. This applies for later in the story too.

Grell kicked a random wall in anger. He had had it. He and William had had another argument. Grell had just wanted to give him a nice present (red lingerie) and he had started screaming about 'inappropriate' and 'sexual harassment' and the word 'disgusting' came up several times. In the end, they hadn't resolved anything, so Will had sent him on a number of reaping assignments to keep Grell out of the office.

Grell looked down at his file with disgust. Some prostitute was being murdered, nothing new. Will could have at least have given him an interesting assignment. He looked down. There she was, with a stalker obviously behind her. The stalker was cloaked so he could only see a faint outline.

Grell read the report. The murderer was some doctor named Angelina Durless. He skimmed the rest, but continued to follow the soon-to-be victim.

He listened in on the situation. "Oh, you're the doctor, aren't you?" The victim said. Grell rolled his eyes. "W-Wait—what are you doing? Stop—" But it was too late. The Dr. Durless had already stabbed the woman. Grell looked at the file for motive. He expected that the woman's husband had slept with this particular prostitute.

But instead, he found a small paragraph of the woman's troubled past. She wanted a child, but couldn't, just like Grell. Grell smiled at the report. Even though this woman would never see him, he felt like she might understand his problem.

Ms. Durless, who Grell admitted he was rooting for at this point, continued stabbing her ungrateful victim. Suddenly her coat fell around her shoulders. Grell practically fell off the roof as he leaned forward to get a better look. Around her head was the most beautiful, if messy, mane of bright red hair. It was the same color as his own!

Quickly, he reached for the file for everything known about this fantastic killer. This wasn't the first time she had killed a prostitute for the same reason. In fact, the dispatch was being kept rather busy because of her. Grell's eyes fell to her nickname, "Madame Red."

He fantasized for a moment that he was down there, stabbing the stupid women with her. He could only imagine what Will would say—

Wait, that was it! The perfect way to get back at Will! If Grell helped a mortal woman kill her victims, Will would have no choice but to come and get him!

Madame Red continued stabbing and stabbing. "Oh my. Oh my! What a complete job you have done." He found himself saying.

The red lady looked up. He gave her his largest smile. "Wh-who are you?" She stuttered still caught in her killing frenzy.

"I've been observing you." He lied. Well, not completely, reading the report counted as observing didn't it? "I am the Death God, Grell Sutcliffe, and I sympathize with your plight." He gave the dead prostitute a small kick with his high-heeled boot.

He looked up at her. Her red hair blended seamlessly into the blood. "Allow me to assist you."

"What?" Grell yelled at her. He had met her in her office. She glared at him to keep him quiet.

"If you want to help me, you'll have to blend in. The way you dress currently is too—noticeable."

"Lady, I'm _offering_ you my help. The help of a Death _God_! Do you know how many serial killers would—"

"Kill for the chance?" She raised an eyebrow at him. "However, if you want to leave, I obviously can't stop you, as you're a God. From what I've heard, though, you've already broken several rules to help me. I can only imagine the consequences for a Death God that helps a mortal."

Grell snarled at her. He silently cursed himself that he had already told her so much of his life. Going back now would ruin his plan to get Will to acknowledge him.

"I've managed to get away with my various murders so far. I don't see why that couldn't continue." Grell was so furious he couldn't think of a good retort. "Now, as it happens, my butler has recently retired. You will take his place. Now are you capable of changing your appearance?"

"Why?" He said coldly.

"Well, to start with, your teeth. They scream 'serial killer.'" He unconsciously touched his teeth protectively. Frowning, he licked them, tooth by tooth until they became smooth as any humans. He gave a sarcastic smile to show her.

She nodded. "Next those glasses. The skulls are a dead giveaway, if you pardon the pun."

He grabbed his glasses. "These glasses are a mark of a shinigami. They were personally made for me and given to me by Father himself! Do you know how important that is, mortal?"

She raised a thin eyebrow at him. Carefully, he removed the skull ornaments, promising himself he would put them back the first chance he got.

"Thank you, for your sacrifice," She said sarcastically, "Now, about the hair…"

"What do you have against my hair?" he said through clenched teeth.

"It's too vivid. It will stand out."

"It's the same color as yours!"

"Exactly. People will think it's strange that a fine lady and her butler share the same rare color. Maybe we could make up an excuse, but people would ask questions, and once people start asking questions, they can't stop. I don't want them asking questions about you."

Hating himself (but mostly her) he took hold of his hair and began changing it a normal, average, ordinary brown color. "Shorten it." She commanded. In defiance, he brought the length in a few inches, but no further. "At least tie it up," She tossed him a giant red bow.

"Ah, now this I could like!" He tied his hair back with the giant bow.

"Now, Grell, you are officially my butler. You must obey all my orders without question, is that understood?"

Grell snarled. It was scary how much this mortal woman reminded him of Will. "You really are cold, Madame. What is it you order me?"

She bit her lip. "For now, return to the house and make me some tea for when I get home."

Grell stormed out of the office and made his way back to the Durless mansion, mumbling all the way. "Who does she think she is? Treating me like some idiot! I am a Death God! Why doesn't she understand that? No one orders _me_ around! Except Will…whatever! Stupid mortals! Stupid women! Doesn't matter how red her hair is!"

He made his way into the house and found the kitchen. "Make me some tea, Grell! Treating me like some servant honestly! And—" He stopped midthought as he picked up the teapot. It suddenly occurred to him that in his extremely long life, he had never made tea.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Here's more! finally... but anyway, I have most of the story done, I'm just having a bit of trouble with some of the later chapters, but updates should be a lot faster from now on.

"Grell! You're late! Get me my cake!"

"Coming, Madame!" Grell hurriedly slapped a slice of the cake on the small plate, picked it up and ran for Madame Red's study. Unfortunately, he tripped halfway up the stairs. He grabbed hold of the banister with his free hand, but his glove slipped and he only kept falling. _Not the cake, not the cake_! He thought desperately. Just as he righted himself 2 steps above the bottom he saw the cake leave the plate and fly through the air.

"_No, no, no!" _he desperately tried to catch the cake with the plate. He lined up the plate with the falling cake perfectly, and-_splat!_

Grell clamped his eyes shut, some part of him believing that if he did not look, he could wish the splattered cake away. Slowly he took his glove off and rubbed the crumbs off his glasses. "Grell, clean that up!" He heard Madame Red shout. He was amazed she didn't even have to know what happened in order to know what happened.

Eventually, he brought Madame Red her cake. She frowned at the sloppy way he had put it on the plate. "Honestly, you're hopeless," she told him.

"Reaping souls is a great deal easier," he said.

He thought he saw her give a half-smile. "Well, at least you're good at something." She took a bite from her cake and swallowed. "Speaking of which, I had a surgery today."

Grell paused. "That kind of surgery?" She nodded. He smiled. "I'll rev up my chainsaw!"

She took another piece of her cake. "I want to go to this one." She said simply.

He smiled, "Did this one say something particularly nasty?"

She raised an eyebrow. "No," She took another bite of cake, "However, I've set up enough alibis to deter any suspicions. It's time I remembered I was the real Jack the Ripper."

His smile widened. "Your welcome to join me, Madame."

That evening, he followed her down the streets of London, the ever-faithful servant. "Do you know where she is, Madame?"

"She mentioned her street corner is down here. There! The woman with the blue stockings."

Grell grunted as he looked disgusted at the prostitute. "Honestly, blue is not her color. Let's see how she looks in red, shall we?"

Madame Red's eyes darted back and forth down the street. "What do we do about the others?"

Grell sighed. "Wait for me in the alley there, Madame. I shall bring her to you." She frowned at him, but he smiled. "You may want to listen in, I am much better at this than pouring tea."

She nodded cautiously and walked away towards the alley. Grell approached the ladies. "Hello, darlings." He said, gazing only at the one the Madame had pointed out.

"Hello, butler." She said, laughing at him. "Sorry, but I think I'm worth more than your paycheck."

"I'm sure, a beautiful lady like you is worth a great deal," He smiled, stroking a finger down her cheek. "Couldn't you take pity on a humble butler?"

"I'm afraid it's still full price, sir," She said smiling as he continued to stroke her face.

"Well, then, will this be enough?" He waved the money bag in front of her face. She stared transfixed at it for a moment.

"Where shall we go, Mr. Butler?" She said taking his outstretched arm.

"Right this way, darling." They walked down until they came to the alley where Grell had told Madame Red to wait.

"Well done, Grell," Madame Red said, glaring at the woman.

The prostitute glared at Madame Red in turn. She then turned to Grell, "This will cost extra." Grell smiled at Madame Red, and let go of the prostitute as though she were made of something disgusting. "Wait a minute, you're that doctor, aren't you?"

"Shall you or shall I, Madame?"

"If you wouldn't mind, Grell, my dress is new."

"What?" the prostitute asked, looking between the two, "Oh god! Y-you—you're Jack the—" With one hand Grell grabbed hold of the woman and put a hand over her mouth so she couldn't scream. With his other hand he summoned his chainsaw, and with a clean swipe, he cut through her stomach.

Madame red stared at him for a moment as he dropped the body, "It's always a little scary seeing you do that. It's very—quick."

He threw the chainsaw over his shoulder. "Well, I was a triple A student. I was especially good with the practical test."

She smirked. "Well, like I said, at least your good at something." She looked him up and down. He was covered in blood. "We need to get you cleaned up. We still have to make it back to the mansion, and it would be hard to explain why you're like that."

He looked down at himself. "Honestly, I rather enjoy this. Blood is so—red. But, I suppose you're right." He waved his hands over the blood and it disappeared.

Madame Red watched fascinated. Once he was done, they made their way back to the carriage in silence. Grell tried to catch her gaze, but she continued to look out into the distance. Sometimes a small frown appeared on her face.

He followed her silently into the mansion and to her door. She walked in, but he stayed at the threshold. "You've been quiet, Madame." She walked to the other side of the room and put her hat on a rack. "Do you need anything else?"

She turned to face him and opened her mouth, but hesitated before speaking. "I don't know what to make of you sometimes. On one hand, you're a servant, far below me in class, and on the other, you're a God, several ranks above the Queen."

He smiled at her and took a step inside, "You really do know how to flatter a girl, Madame." She smiled at him. "Well, I suppose my various roles balance out, so that makes us pretty equal. Well, maybe I'm a _little_ higher in status."

She laughed, kindly. "Grell, if you don't mind me asking, why did you decide to help me?"

He gave a small frown and closed the door so other servants walking by wouldn't hear. "I already told you Madame. We share the same fate. I sympathize with your plight, and I must say, I love your color."

She had stepped forward and looked up at him. "Is that really all?"

He smiled. "I think you underestimate how very much I love red." He lifted his hand and began playing with her hair, weaving his fingers through it. He took his other hand and examined her beautiful red dress, up and down her arm.

She closed her eyes as he played with the red. She shivered at his touch, but he didn't notice. The only thing he noticed was how red her lips were, and he didn't have a third hand.

Unconsciously, he leaned down and kissed the red on her lips. She stayed still, but kissed back. Everything about her was so red, so alive, he wanted to consume all the red on her.

And then he realized what he was doing and pulled away from her with a start, accidentally pulling some beautiful red hair with his hand. He stared at her for a moment. She looked confused. He covered his mouth with his hand and backed away several paces. "I-I'm so sorry, Madame." He said under his hand.

But she did not seem sorry at all. She tried approaching him again, but he backed away again, afraid of the red lady. "I really am sorry, but I am a lady," Grell said, "And ladies—ladies don't—"

She finally cornered him and grabbed hold of his hand, but he still leaned away from her as far as she could. "Lady? Didn't you tell me you wish you could have a child, but you couldn't because you were a guy?"

"Maybe physically, Madame," He said, trying to get free, "But I can assure you a woman's heart lies beneath this chest," he patted his chest, "a woman's heart that loves men—"

"You seemed to be flirting with that prostitute very well for a woman!" She interrupted.

"I was just imitating this new guy at the office, Ronald! I wouldn't come near that piece of trash with a ten-foot-pole!"

"Grell! Please! I-I've been so lonely ever since my family died. But you—you gave me a friend, someone I could share my deepest, vengeful secret. Please, Grell."

Grell looked deep in her eyes. "I—I've never been with a woman before." He tried to back away further, but he was never one for self-control. He leaned down and kissed her again, and this time he didn't stop.


	3. Chapter 3

Grell woke up the next morning, his mind reeling. Madame Red was sleeping peacefully beside him. He shook his head and looked for his glasses. His hair shook around him and for a moment, he was surprised it was brown.

He slipped out of bed and put on his pants. There was a mirror in Madame Red's room and he walked over to it, staring at his reflection.

If it weren't for his green gold eyes, Grell thought he would be completely unrecognizable as the Grim Reaper from—was it only a month ago? He looked back at Madame Red. Things had certainly happened fast.

A month—his monthly report was no doubt late by now. Will should have noticed. God—Will! He hadn't even been thinking of Will last night. He thought of Will daily, or some other sexy man. But no…last night he had been thinking of a woman…

Grell had never been one to question his sexuality, despite the fact many people thought his sexuality was very questionable. Despite his interest in womanly things, he did not like women. But there he was, across the room from a naked woman, and he desperately wanted to go back to the bed and join her.

His plan had been to get Will to notice his absence and come for him, but things had taken a desperate turn. He couldn't wait for Will to decide Grell's reports were too late and come after him. He needed Will to come now.

Coming to a decision, he pulled a sheet from the closet. He tied one end to the bedpost and the other around his neck. The movement of the bedpost woke up Madame Red.

"What are you doing?" She asked sleepily, watching as he fought with the window, trying to get it open.

"If I try and kill myself, my name will appear on the Death List, and my William will have no choice but to come and get me." He wrenched the window open and prepared himself to jump, but stopped at the sound of laughter.

He looked over to see Madame Red covering her mouth to prevent her from giggling. "I'm sorry," She said, still smiling broadly, "I suppose I should be upset that you would be willing to kill yourself to get away from me but," She giggled again, "The thought of a Death God committing suicide!" She began laughing on the bed, while trying to keep the sheets over her body.

He stared at her incredulously. Despite himself, he half smiled at her laughing face. He found himself wanting to make her laugh more. He lifted the sheet-rope above his head and made a face, as if he were hanging himself right there in her room. She broke up into peels of laughter, clutching her stomach, unable to keep the sheets on her. They fell, revealing her breasts.

Grell laughed along with her. Still tied to the rope, he climbed back on the bed and crawled to her catlike. He stopped her laughing fits with kisses, although it took several.

"I didn't help you for you," He said quietly, "I helped you kill those people, because I thought it would attract attention from people in my office."

She nodded, her smile fading. "I thought it must be something along those lines. You don't seem the type to help random women kill others."

"Well, I wouldn't say you were random." He said, gently grabbing hold of her face, "I didn't lie when I said I loved red. And it looks incredible on you," She blushed. "Now your whole face is red! It's lovely." He looked deep into her eyes, and he made his decision. He knew what he had to do. He kissed her again.

When they broke apart his forehead was still pressed against hers, "Last night," he whispered against her lips, "was for you. And tonight will be as well, with every day and night after that." She smiled and tried to kiss him again, but he pulled back, "but today, I need the day off."

She frowned slightly. "Why?

He smiled, "I have some things that need taking care of. I will return by tonight. I promise." He pecked her quickly on the lips, untangled himself from the sheet, got up, grabbed the rest of his clothes, and left.

"Sutcliff, this is the sloppiest report you have turned in to date." Will told him. Grell tried desperately not to tap his foot impatiently as Will looked over the file. He had done the whole monthly report in a few hours, which was procrastinating even for him. "Not to mention it is late, although not as late as some of your reports."

"But it still meets protocol, right?" Grell said, trying to hurry his boss along. Will looked up at him suspiciously. Grell knew that he had never been in Will's office so long without hitting on his boss once.

Grell had done the report a little sloppily on purpose. It would make it harder for Will to realize that parts of it were falsified. Falsifying records was something even Grell had never done, but it was necessary to cover his tracks of what he had been doing for the past month. It had been hard, as he had intentionally left major clues of where he was because originally he _wanted_ Will to find him. Now, however, he needed to be subtle. If he turned in his report, no matter how sloppily, Will would have no reason to investigate.

"It _barely_ meets protocol, Sutcliff, so I suppose you do not have to stay for overtime."

With a nod, Grell grabbed his chainsaw and tried to rush out of the office, but Will called him back. "Sutcliff, make sure you turn in your reports in a TIMELY manner from now on!" Grell nodded again, and swept out.

Hurriedly, he returned to his office and began packing up papers so he could write up reports from the mansion. He had taken every report of Jack the Ripper's victims (past and future), and hid them in his case, so no one else would find them.

"Whoa! Where's the fire, Senpai?" Ronald asked as Grell ran past, "You know, if I didn't know you any better, I'd say you had a hot date tonight!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Knox!" Grell snapped, but did not comment further. He saw Ronald frown at him and suddenly, Grell realized his error. He never called Ronald 'Knox.' He was in too much of rush to really care. Writing up the report had taken longer than he thought.

He rushed out of the Dispatch and into the mortal world. He changed his appearance back to a butler's and walked quickly down the streets of London. He passed by a store window, and double backed. He took a quick look at his watch. It was 11 o'clock at night. Plenty of time for one stop.

Madame Red was as ready as she ever would be for bed. Her maid was folding the clothes she had worn that day and preparing to take them to be washed. The Madame had waited as long as she could before returning to bed.

"Anything else you need, Madame?" her maid asked.

She bit her lip. "Any sign yet of Grell?"

"No, Madame. No one's seen him all day."

She frowned. "He said he would return tonight," she muttered more to herself than the maid.

"I'm sure he'll be back by morning, Madame."

Just then, a telltale crash resounded from downstairs. Madame Red and her maid watched the door for several minutes the sound of more crashes and other things falling over came from outside. Finally, the door opened, and Grell walked in, glasses askew.

"I-I'm sorry Madame!" He regained his composure, clumsily.

"You're late, Grell." She said, controlling her smile.

"I know, Madame," He said, "I-I'm not worthy of being your butler. I think I should just—kill myself!" And with that he grabbed the letter opener that was lying on the nightstand and pointed it at his throat.

The maid gasped in shock and fear and dropped the clothes, but Grell could see Madame Red was just barely holding in fits of laughter. "You mustn't, Mr. Grell!" The maid shrieked, "You have too much to live for! To kill yourself is a sin! Do you want your soul damned forever?" Madame Red had to bite her cheeks.

Grell nodded and put the letter opener back on the nightstand. "Thank you, Charlotte, you've given me a new perspective." He gave her a nervous smile, "Now, I have a message to deliver to the Madame in private, if you would excuse us."

Charlotte picked up the clothes and bowed out of the room. Even after she had closed the door, Madame Red held in her laughter. "So, what is this message?" She asked.

He shrugged. "Not a message really. More of a gift." He pulled out of his jacket a beautiful woman's red coat. "I saw it and I just had to have it!" He told her.

Her mouth twitched but she managed to keep her straight face. "It's inappropriate for a butler to give his Madame a gift like this."

He rolled his eyes, "Then tell everyone you bought it for yourself, now come on, isn't it pretty?"

Finally, she couldn't keep it in anymore and laughed. "I've never had," she said between fits of laughter, "a man give me clothing to apologize for being late."

"Well," Grell said, laying the coat on the armoire, "None of your other men had as good taste as I do!" He crawled onto her bed again, where she was still laughing.

"The coat is beautiful, Grell. Now, are all your 'things' taken care of?" She asked.

He lightly kissed her, "Yes, Madame. I am yours."

She put on a noble expression, "Then, Grell, as my butler, I am giving you an order." He raised an eyebrow in question. "Stay with me tonight."

He smiled and kissed her again. "Yes, My Lady."

A/N: I'm having some trouble with the next chapter. I hope to update soon, but no promises.


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